There have already been a host of various-artists tribute albums (my own personal favourite is still 2014’s Ronnie James Dio: This Is Your Life. The recent The Metallica Blacklist contained some sparkling stuff but was perhaps too much of a good thing). And there have already been Alice Cooper tribute albums (1999’s Humanary Stew, anyone? Dio sang Welcome To My Nightmare on that). So, is this latest example still relevant and ripe for the picking? Of course – it looks back to the past via talent of the present who are helping pave the way to the future, and that idea is always interesting, always fun. Is the new album inconsistent and uneven? Yes, but these things are – it’s still a more-than-worthwhile exercise, showcasing underground Doom, Stoner and Psych outfits, and promises to be the first instalment of an intriguing, on-going “50 Years Later” series.
Alice Cooper’s fourth album Killer was released in 1971 (do the math!) after the same year’s Love It To Death and before the next year’s Schools Out (not to mention ’73’s Billion Dollar Babies and Muscle Of Love, following which “Alice” himself – aka Vincent Furnier, latterly a golf addict – would go solo, taking the band name with him as his very own moniker). Killer benefited from the front man’s gravelly vocals and cocksure swagger, grand guignol tendencies and other surreal Dali-ances as it served up a “shock rock” collection of anti-establishment, counter-culture anthems and evocative tales of guns and lovers, slaves and strangers, conflicted drifters and gamblers, dysfunctional families. The songwriters included producer Bob Ezrin and band members Michael Bruce (guitar and keyboards), Dennis Dunaway (bass), Glen Buxton (lead guitar) and Neal Smith (drums).
Green Lung and The Grand Mal open the new project with their renderings of Under My Wheels and Be My Lover, respectively – the excellent, seminal riffs and licks mean it’s difficult to really go wrong and both are faithful covers, turbo-charged and power-upped in the modern way, Green Lung adding in some Leader Of The Pack-style engine revving effects. Be My Lover, a rocky paean to the timeless dichotomy between a one-night stand and the commitment of a lifetime, finds The Grand Mal making the most of an irresistible Glam stomp with the “slow-mo” finale present and correct. All in all, the first two bands refreshingly tackle the classics head on and keep the fun factor high.
Next up, Sergeant Thunderhoof deliver Halo Of Flies, Killer’s longest track at eight minutes plus. The original encapsulated the band’s movie-style storytelling, mixing the epic musical drama of a Spaghetti Western with the psychedelic excess of a Euro horror flick and the gadgetry, international travel and easy lovers of a James Bond picture (interestingly, while on a Bond theme, Muscle Of Love would include a certain band-penned number called Man With The Golden Gun which, the story goes, narrowly missed out on being an official 007 title song). With its extended instrumental sequences, Halo Of Flies seems to be reaching for ELP/ King Crimson prog territory and Sergeant Thunderhoof satisfyingly honour its scale and ambition.
We’re back in Western territory with Desperado – more drama and more storytelling (“I’m a killer, and I’m a clown … you’re as dead as a desert night … tell me where the hell I’m goin’ …”). Ritual King’s remake makes much of an effectively dreamy intro before going on to highlight the nightmarish, tragic and hallucinatory elements, largely thanks to a swirling, sonically-spectacular geetar solo. So far so good, but it’s something of a different story as You Drive Me Nervous and Yeah, Yeah, Yeah are reworked by 1968 and Trippy Wicked & The Cosmic Children Of The Knight.
The former’s bass-heavy sound, muddy mix and dizzy distortion tend to over-complicate the issue, while Yeah, Yeah, Yeah is heavier still – fuzzy, bass-thick, Doom-laden. The original album is, on the whole, uncomplicated and light on its feet. Part of the attraction of this kind of various tribute is to hear the bands rework the songs into their own contemporary styles, of course – but sometimes it can be taken too far (I hesitate to point a black leather-gloved finger, or to employ the “we’re not worthy” Coop cliché – none of it is that bad, Wayne). And other listeners may disagree and consider these songs the cream of the collection, which is also part of the beauty of it – there’s something for everyone, more or less.
Best of the lot, this critic reckons, is Mos Generator’s take on the still controversial Dead Babies. The Alice Cooper version upped the nihilism with a bass intro as sinister as the misplaced aspirin and spooky, childlike “la-la-la”s. This cautionary tale is dealt a real shot in the arm, giving us Dead Babies via Pearl Jam’s Jeremy, a new tragedy for a new age. It’s a belter, offering much-needed clarity, focused and precise and displaying mucho playing chops, right up to the familiar and final “order in the court!”
Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell then tackle the title track, with more than a hint of Black Metal leanings which, while thematically true to Alice Cooper’s influence on today’s music, once again misses the point of the original album’s spot-on leanness. If Cooper’s Killer used a gun (an effectively-deployed Neal Smith drumbeat?) or a precisely-placed stiletto dagger (Buxton’s lead guitar?) this variant seems to be painting a messy, confused picture of a ritual beheading with a few eviscerated sheep/ pigs/ and/ or nubile witches scattered around for entrail-exhibited effect. The 1971 version recalled the otherworldly, wild and sometimes disorienting blues of The Doors (who were pals of Alice, he has said, particularly Jim Morrison and guitarist Robby Krieger. Morrison – is he the Desperado? You tell me – died in July ’71). The Admiral’s interpretation of Killer is disorienting in a different way but is at the very least a great drum track, a skins and crashes tour de force which certainly demands to be played LOUD LOUDER LOUDEST ELEVEN.
This fresh take on classic album Killer will be available on all formats, with the CD and digital editions containing four bonus tracks – extra cuts from the Alice Cooper pantheon but not from Killer – courtesy of Alunah, Suns Of Thunder, Possessor and Sound Of Origin. All are worth a spin, especially Alunah’s I’m Eighteen (“and I like it!”) and Suns Of Thunder’s expert and propulsive Billion Dollar Babies.
Alice Cooper, Killer – 50 Years Later is out on Pale Wizard Records on Saturday (November 27 – 50 years to the day).